


up, down, turn around (please don’t let me hit the ground)

by jeremiahheerr (jukeboxtheghostie)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Autistic Jeremy Heere, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Michael Mell, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Jeremy Heere, just saying now ill add more tags as i post more, likely no nsfw content, michael has a bernese mountain dog named eddie and the boys love him more than anything, these boys r dumb and oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 19:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jukeboxtheghostie/pseuds/jeremiahheerr
Summary: tonight i think i’ll walk alonei’ll find my soul as i go home-a brief glimpse through jeremy heere and michael mell’s relationship.(aka i love this song (temptation) and i love jukebox the ghost so take this incredibly self indulgent piece of shit)





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally written oct 17 2018  
> reworked & republished jun 16 2019  
> \------  
> age 13  
> summer/freshman year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my fic! u may have read it at one point last yr, and im glad to announce im rewriting it and continuing on w the story! pls be patient w me, as ill only update once a week or so after i touch up the first 2 chapters T^T tysm!!

**green eyes**

“no, no, not like that, jer,” michael sighed, laughter lacing his next words as jeremy stared down at his hands in confusion. “i swear you’re making this more difficult than it should be,” he added with a huff, shooting a playful look at jeremy as he rolled his eyes and tried to position his fingers on the g chord again. 

it was the middle of summer before their ninth grade year, and thirteen year old michael had obtained a ukulele a couple months ago with the birthday money his moms gave him. he’d decided that he wanted to teach jeremy how to play that afternoon, but the thing was.. it was.. well. challenging would be putting it nicely. he didn’t get why jeremy was having such a hard time, either--the ukulele had to be the _easiest_ instrument to learn. but despite his totally awesome teaching, jeremy was still having trouble keeping his fingers on the chords.

in short, jeremy kinda sucked when it came to coordinating his fingers, or maybe multitasking, michael wasn’t sure. michael tried his best to keep his cool and make sure jeremy didn’t get overwhelmed or frustrated. all they were doing was practicing switching between chords--the basic ones, like am and g and c and f--but the lankier guy was still having trouble with the concept.

jeremy found it hard to focus on strumming and switching the chord at the same time. the fact that he was sat in his best friend’s lap wasn’t really helping either. he couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly about being close to him was making his breathing all funny, but michael kept putting his hands over his own and it was.. distracting, to say the least. 

“stop doing that and let me focus,” he whined, trying to subtly bat away michael’s hands as he tried again to move his left hand from the g chord to the f chord, then to the am chord and the c chord, all while strumming. 

“doing what?” michael teased, poking his friend’s sides when he refused to answer, causing jeremy to jump and make an ugly sound with the instrument as his fingers dragged up the strings awkwardly. 

“stop it!” jeremy giggled, putting the ukulele down to push his hands away again and squirming out of his grip. michael frowned as jeremy pushed his hands away but stopped, sighing as he watched jeremy put the ukulele down. great. it had taken them five minutes alone to get jeremy’s fingers on the right chords. 

“jer, dude, come on, try again,” michael pleaded, poking his side again and holding back a laugh at jeremy’s obviously fake death stare. “i won’t tickle you this time,” he added, watching as the angry look on his best friend’s face turned into one of defeat, picking back up the instrument and setting it in his lap, putting his index finger on am. jeremy looked up at michael with bright eyes, strumming experimentally. 

michael felt his face get hot as he watched jeremy get so excited about being able to play the right chords, praising him with a laugh and shaking off his thoughts about how pretty jeremy looked when his eyes lit up like that and how bubbly his laugh was. his eyes were so green it was kind of crazy.

he banished the thought from his head, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach starting to form. whatever it was, he didn’t want to think about it right now. he continued to teach jeremy the switch between chords, trying not to notice how his hair fell in his eyes or how his tongue poked out between his lips when he was focusing. 

he didn’t want to think about that right now.

••••••••••••••••

they spent the rest of the day messing around with the ukulele, eating way too many sour gummy worms, and, when they got bored of playing shitty covers, taking a trip to the pool late at night. 

jeremy loved swimming but hated doing it in public, mainly because he didn’t appreciate the unnecessary attention his binder brought. he burned really easily in the sun, too, and michael didn’t like the crowds all that much anyways, so they went night swimming during their summers. technically, they weren’t allowed to go swimming at night, since the neighborhood pool closed at 10 pm, but the pool staff didn’t care as long as they had a pool key. michael was a little embarrassed about how it was probably only out of pity that they were allowed in this late. bullies aren’t just a school occurrence, anyways.

the bluish light of the pool surrounded them as soon as they closed the metal gate behind them, turning to each other with excited grins as they dropped their towels and their snacks by the chairs and jumped into the pool. they seemed to revert back into the kids they were as they splashed each other, held breath holding contests, did cannonballs and other clumsy jumps into the pool. the lights framed their smiling faces as they drifted around the pool in the slow pace the water forced on them even while they tried to race. 

jeremy saw the way water droplets dripped down his best friend’s shoulders, and how his legs were tinted a whitish blue looking down to the water. he saw how michael’s hair slicked back when it was wet and thought it looked funny, but was also way cuter than it should be. god, who let his best friend be this cute? it was totally unfair. he wished he was as cute as michael.

he’d always been described as the more observant of the two, always taking in every detail surrounding him before he would even think of forcing himself to make eye contact with others. he could describe his third period’s classroom almost perfectly despite not being in school for months, but he couldn’t remember if his dad’s eyes were green or blue. so naturally, he didn’t think much of how he’d been noticing more and more things michael did and tacking that label onto them. _cute_. what did that even entail? he could just admire his friend, right? it didn’t have to be a weird thing, right? 

he shook off those thoughts and held his nose as he sank down underwater, unplugging his nose and exhaling so he wouldn’t float off the floor of the pool. it was sort of scratchy and he knew that with all the horsing around they both did they’d come back with scrapes on their elbows and knees, but he hardly cared about how they’d sting in the shower later tonight. he sat underwater for as long as he could, appreciating the quiet and letting a small laugh slip as michael nudged him with his foot.

he opened his eyes underwater, staring up at michael who laughed soundlessly above him. he smiled and waved up at him, michael shaking his head. he could practically hear him wondering how he could open his eyes with all the chlorine, and started laughing, bubbles rising above his head. he popped up above the water so he didn’t choke while inhaling accidentally, laughing as he resurfaced. 

michael thought his best friend had no business being this adorable. he just wanted to grab him and kiss the goofy lopsided smile off of his face, but didn’t, for obvious reasons. 

the reason wasn’t because either of them didn’t like boys— he knew for a fact they both did. they talked boys all the time when they hung out in the basement and played video games, and sometimes jeremy talked about girls— but.. just because his best friend liked boys, it didn’t mean he would like him back. 

he felt sort of gross for liking jeremy, anyway. it didn’t feel right, like he was just latching onto his only romantic option. 

plus, they were thirteen. they had forever to sort this out, even if there was anything to sort out. right?

once they were both fully exhausted from swimming and checked the time-- _”mikey, we should really go! it’s one already!”_ \--they decided to get out and go back to michael’s house. they gathered up all their stuff and headed out, jeremy looking around at their surroundings. 

walking barefoot in the middle of the night, towels draped over their shoulders as they held their shoes and their wet hair fell into their eyes, talking softly and laughing at each other’s stupid inside jokes, looking at each other with big dumb grins as the streetlights outlined them dully— this was jeremy’s favorite thing to do. just walk and talk to michael. 

it was so quiet in the neighborhood. there weren’t any kids in the front lawn, couples walking their dogs, asshole kids on their bikes almost running them over, people taking loads of groceries from their cars to their houses, or even house parties. it was almost eerily silent as they walked home, save michael’s voice, jeremy’s laughter, and jukebox the ghost playing softly from jeremy’s phone. 

he wished every day was like this. just spending every moment he could with michael, not caring about school the next morning or homework or an upcoming test or if he had enough laundry for the upcoming week. just him and michael, screwing around and doing virtually whatever they wanted all summer. 

a perfect world would just be the two of them, plus his dad and michael’s moms, of course. but nobody else mattered. it could just be the two of them forever and he’d be content. 

••••••••••••••••

that feeling didn’t last very long, of course. as soon as school started back up he was reminded of how miserable it was only having one friend. freshman year was a big one, too. his dad couldn’t get out of bed that morning so he had to make his own breakfast, waiting around for michael’s moms to show up and drive him to school. 

he was really nervous about the first day, and not even just because of a new schedule and a different lunch hour than michael. high school meant the two middle schools in their school district were in one building, and he’d heard horror stories about the other school. there were going to be way too many new people for him to handle. 

he looked up from his cereal as he heard a honk from outside, jumping up from the table and cursing as he bumped his knee on the edge. he grabbed his bag and dumped his cereal in the sink before heading outside towards michael’s moms’ car. 

as he climbed in the backseat he returned michael’s high five shakily, smiling at him and hugging himself as they got closer to the school. 

he wished he would’ve brought his deodorant with him, because he was already sweating, but how weird would it look applying deodorant in a class? no, he wouldn’t do that. he had gym seventh hour— his last class of the day. that was good. he’d gotten really lucky with that one. he wouldn’t be overly sweaty in one of his classes and gross someone out, and hey, maybe on a good day he could even use the showers. maybe. if nobody else was around. and the floor wasn’t gross. okay, scratch that, he couldn’t use the showers there. he wondered if his gym teacher knew he wasn’t cis. of course he knew that— he’d emailed him about his name and the changing situation and all that. but what if he wasn’t allowed to change in the stalls? he didn’t want to think about changing in front of a bunch of cis boys. he didn’t want another big bad locker incident to happen. 

(the big bad locker incident was in seventh grade when he first came out. the guys in there were being really rude, and thankfully michael was there, but michael’s temper was on a hairpin trigger when it came to jeremy, so he punched the guy asking jeremy how he was really a boy if he had tits. that and other comments led jeremy to start crying. michael got suspended for two days and it sucked.)

michael’s hand on his shoulder broke him from his trance, his head snapping up to look at his best friend. he put his hand over the one on his shoulder and squeezed it, michael noticing the pained look on his face and mumbling for him to just breathe. they sat there for a moment, calming down, before getting out of the car, jeremy thanking the mell mothers as they closed the doors and headed hand in hand towards the school. 

(they’d always been a touchy pair, unless it was a bad touch day for either of them, but lots of kids thought they were a thing because they were always holding hands or michael’s arm was around jeremy’s shoulders or they were leaning against each other in the hallway or bumping against or tickling each other. they didn’t mind the comments, or at least michael didn’t. 

jeremy was jealous of michael in that way. he wished he wasn’t embarrassed by his every move. he wished he was confident like his best friend.)

(ina and jasmine mell watched them walk off before turning to each other with a knowing look. they loved their son, but they knew something was up there. something neither of them were seeing.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally written oct 24 2018  
> reworked & republished jun 16 2019  
> \-----  
> age 15  
> sophomore year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small cw for bullying (rich is introduced!! yaaaay) but other than that idk if i need to tag anything? they also smoke sm weed but nothin freaky goes down cuz they Kids  
> tysm for reading this!! i hope ur days going ok today

jeremy sighed as he closed his locker door, looking over at his best friend and laughing at his bored expression. “what’s wrong, mikey?” he asked softly, a smile playing at his lips as he reached over to poke his shoulder. 

they were 15 at this point-- big bad sophomores, in that limbo between new kid freshie and upperclassmen. high school wasn’t as bad as jeremy had anticipated, really. he was getting quite used to the ebb and flow, especially knowing he had michael as an anchor through it all. next year they’d really be upperclassmen, though, and they had to start worrying about sats and acts, college applications, ap classes, and the like. jeremy was trying his best not to think about all that and leave it for junior year jeremy to worry about, since he knew all too well he had a tendency to overthink things. 

michael snapped out of his thoughts as jeremy poked his shoulder, returning his smile halfheartedly. “we just have so much school left, and i’m so tired,” he whined, leaning against his best friend’s locker and putting his hand over his forehead dramatically, imitating christine in the nicest way he could. jeremy rolled his eyes at the display, pushing him off the wall of lockers and towards the cafeteria. 

“we only have, like, three hours left after lunch,” he hummed as he led michael to the cafeteria. “now, um.. c-can we get out of here for a moment?” he mumbled softly, stumbling over his words a bit as he referred to their routine of going out to the nearby seven eleven to get michael’s sushi and slushie. sometimes jeremy got himself a box of lemonheads. it was starting to get a bit too loud for his liking as more and more people filed into the cafeteria like mindless sheep, and he’d rather not be in the same room as half of the whole school.

michael nodded and they were off, bopping towards seven eleven— well, michael was bopping. he had his headphones on. jeremy was watching his feet as he walked, making sure he didn’t step on any cracks. once they got to the convenience store he went to the candy aisle, deciding to switch it up a little and picking a promising looking bag of bite sized starburst. he brought his snack up to the front once michael had his lunch, letting michael pay but reminding himself to slip two bucks into his hoodie pocket later because of his snack. 

once they were situated at an empty table in the courtyard outside the school’s cafeteria they got to snacking, talking about the latest video game releases and strategies on level six of apocalypse of the damned— it was a really hard game, and they had such short tempers when it came to that game, so they had to take a lot of breaks. it was insanely fun, though, and jeremy loved searching through the internet for strategies to use and testing them out with michael. jeremy kind of had a thing for making checklists and methodically going through them, which michael didn’t mind of course, but it could get boring or downright annoying sometimes. 

just as the lunch hour was going to end and the pair stood up from their chairs and threw away their trash, someone’s foot stuck out and nearly tripped the lanky teen, causing him to knock into michael’s side with an awkward squawk. the laughter after the fact gave away the culprit immediately, jeremy keeping his head down both to avoid conflict and the embarrassment from almost falling over, which was apparent in his flushed face.

“that might’ve been the most childish one yet,” michael deadpanned, clearly done with rich’s shit. “where’d you get that one? fifth grade?”

(rich goranski showed up pretty much out of nowhere at the beginning of the year, if you weren’t someone as observant as michael and jeremy. they didn’t have anyone else besides them, so naturally they liked to people watch. 

rich had been an outcast, and had even hung out with michael a couple times before he suddenly started climbing the social ladder faster than the other kids could comprehend. over the summer he’d managed to get rumors spread around about how many girls he’d slept with and on top of that made jake dillinger, pretty much the hottest and most popular guy in all of middle borough, his best friend all within a month.

nobody really thought to question it, either. he was just another guy on top. who were _they_ to judge?)

rich sneered at the comment, apparently too cool to give them a second glance because he walked off then, talking animatedly with the guy walking with him-- mark? jack? those two looked almost exactly alike. their names even matched. mark jackson and jack markson.

ugh. new jersey, right?

••••••••••••••••

a few weeks later, michael sewed a pride patch to his hoodie.

it had taken him a lot of working himself up to do it, including a seven-hour call through the night, mainly consisting of jeremy calming him down and michael making weird noises as he kept stabbing himself with the needle. 

michael was usually really sure of himself, but he had a tendency to overthink sometimes. he and jeremy both had that in common, he guessed. they both tended to calm each other down, though, even if it was through mountains of infodumping about random ass topics that never quite connected, never quite resolving the conversation but keeping it going for hours at a time. 

(it was so much fun to talk when they were high, they realized earlier on in the year when michael met dustin kropp and started buying his stuff. everything was a million times funnier when they were high, and michael especially had the weirdest train of thought.)

as they walked arm in arm to school the next morning, yawning in between sentences and rubbing at their tired eyes, students around them started to notice the newly added patch— which was odd, since they were usually invisible. jeremy had been convinced nobody would comment on the patch, so that was a particularly surprising development. 

michael started getting shit for it around third hour. 

during lunch, however, just as he and jeremy got back from seven eleven, rich appeared. great. the pair braced themselves for the worst, for slurs, for punches, but rich didn’t say anything for a while. it was like he was frozen in place, having an internal debate with himself.

it was weird, actually— to jeremy, it looked like he wanted to say something. 

(“of course he wanted to say something,” michael would comment as they talked about it later. “it’s a pride patch. he’s the epitome of blatant everything-phobia in this shithole school. he was probably trying to think of the most strategic way to use slurs,” he would go on, but jeremy knew there was something else in his look, something he couldn’t quite place until much, much later, during junior year.

he looked trapped. like he wasn’t physically capable of speaking for himself.)

but instead of whatever he was thinking, he started shit talking the patch. as predicted. mostly weak insults, but as michael started arguing back it got harsher. 

jeremy stepped in when rich started shoving. 

(when they were in elementary school, jeremy would beat up anyone who messed with michael. the other kids found it hilarious, since the bully had been “beat up by a girl,” and mostly left him and michael alone. 

after the boys all had their big manly growth spurts, jeremy wasn’t as much of a threat anymore.)

jeremy pushed his way between rich and michael, shoving rich off of him with an angry noise. “you motherfucker!” he spat, about to lunge at him until michael’s arms wrapped around his waist and he was held back.

“jeez, jer, calm down, he didn’t do much anyways,” michael laughed nervously, trying his best to keep the writhing boy at bay. “let’s just go, okay? we can get you gummy worms or something,” he added, trying to bribe jeremy into being calmer. he knew it wouldn’t work, but it was worth a try. rich’s antics had just piled up so much over the span of the year, along with the confusion over why he’d so suddenly started picking on them out of nowhere, jeremy had just.. had enough of it. and it took a lot more than sour gummy worms to get jeremy to stop having a fit.

“michael, let go! i got this!” he huffed, wriggling out of his grasp and throwing a punch in rich’s direction, but he was too quick, punching him right in the stomach. he stumbled a little, holding his stomach and making a pained noise, rich’s laughter echoing in his ears. 

“you fight like a girl, jeremy,” rich sneered, knowing full well the implications behind the comment and how much more furious it would make jeremy. as predicted, jeremy recovered pretty quickly, shoving rich roughly. 

rich stumbled for a moment but regained his ground, laughing more. his laugh was awful, high pitched, and mocking. it made jeremy’s gut wrench. “you really wanna start this?” he taunted, making a “come at me” gesture with his fingers and kicking jeremy in the shin when he did, and again in the side when jeremy went down, and again on the ass when he didn’t get back up. 

michael stood frozen in horror of the sight, bile in his mouth as his best friend curled up on the ground as their tormentor kicked him in the ribs. how had that escalated so quickly? rich had never hit them like that before. he thought the fuss was over his pride patch! why was jeremy taking the brunt of it while he stood gawking like a dumbass? he could only able to stand another second before he was shoving rich away and yelling at him, scaring him off. 

jeremy’s head was pounding as he waited for the pain to stop, shaking as he curled in on himself tightly. rich was being generous— he wouldn’t come out of this with anything broken, but he’d be bruised and battered to hell. 

michael’s voice was far away, only becoming clearer when he coaxed him to standing and helped him walk back towards the school. jeremy pushed him away as they got closer, insisted that he could walk, and they headed to the nurse’s office hand in hand. 

••••••••••••••••

jeremy got sent home by the nurse after that, and instead of calling his dad he had michael drive him home. skipping with michael was always preferable to his dad’s worrying and disappointed looks as he made sandwiches on the other side of the kitchen. it had been a while since he’d been in a fight, but he hadn’t thought it had been so long he’d get his ass handed to him. he hated feeling so weak, and seeing his dad all worried would only make it worse.

once he and michael were comfortably situated in the latter boy’s basement, jeremy let out a sigh of relief, happy to be somewhere familiar after what had happened. 

it wasn’t even that big of a deal, really— worse had happened before at the hands of others. rich hadn’t been the first to hit them, it had just been a surprise since he was usually just calling names or telling lame insults. the fighting and mocking had kicked up especially after he first came out as trans. he’d had many of his own personal bathroom scares or uncomfortable “what’s in your pants” discussions to know what qualified as worse. 

he noticed michael’s worried gaze around the second round of sonic adventure, sighing and pausing the game with an exasperated “what, mikey?” 

“oh nothing, it’s just you were kicked in the ribs earlier by a short asshole, and i wanted to know how you were doing but i didn’t want to piss you off by asking,” michael replied defensively, dropping his controller in his lap and crossing his arms. “and you’re breathing all heavy like eddie after a walk. you haven’t even taken off your binder yet, dude. you probably should.” 

jeremy nudged his foot against michael’s with a sigh, mumbling a small “fine” and getting up to change in the bathroom. he hated that michael was always right— it was much easier to breathe now. on his way back downstairs he brought some water and a couple of snacks, figuring they’d get the munchies sooner or later if this was a smoke day. 

(michael had started buying from christine canigula’s cousin in the beginning of the year, as previously mentioned, and while jeremy despised the feeling the smoke gave him, he enjoyed it every so often, just to calm his nerves for once.)

michael lit up as he saw jeremy coming back downstairs, not only with snacks but wearing one of michael’s old hoodies, making his stomach do a weird flip that he immediately shoved down. 

“you’re back!” michael chirped, putting his arms up in the air. “i am!” jeremy replied, putting his arms up too as best as he could with his arms full of snacks. 

“you brought snacks!”

“i did!”

jeremy giggled as he sat down on his assigned beanbag, which had been blue when they bought it but was now grayish and picked apart in some spots from the years of wear and tear and jeremy’s nervous habits— many a shirt had been pulled apart because of said habits, and it wasn’t like michael’s beanbag was any better off. 

“you’re a dork,” he hummed, tossing a water bottle and some chips at his best friend. “guilty as charged,” michael replied with a grin, staring at the water for a moment and holding it up with a weird look on his face. jeremy rolled his eyes at the display, biting back a smile. “you need to drink water at some point in the day, dude.”

michael just huffed and popped the cap off, drinking down a fourth of the bottle in one go. what a smartass. jeremy laughed at his ridiculousness, leaning back in his beanbag and holding his own water bottle close to his body, finding the cold seeping into his hands comforting. 

“so.. are we gonna talk it out or would you rather i roll one and we smoke it out?” michael spoke up after a couple moments of silence, knowing they had to at least address what happened earlier. they were way too good at avoiding talking about serious things. 

jeremy hummed in thought, deciding they could talk about it later since he really didn’t want to. it was just another dumb meltdown moment of his. “smoke?” he asked softly, looking over at him with his best puppy dog eyes and grinning triumphantly when michael gave in. 

after the joint was rolled and they both took a few puffs michael picked his controller back up, jeremy following suit as he put in a new game. 

they both sat around and played video games for a while before jeremy got bored of it, resorting to him playing music from his phone and cuddling with eddie, michael’s big fluffy bernese mountain dog, while michael played excitebike. 

michael eventually got bored of video games, too, and they both ended up laying on the floor with eddie, jeremy’s music still playing at a quiet volume, something about heaven, a gateway, and a home. 

high jeremy’s thoughts wandered a lot faster than anxious jeremy’s thoughts, but not in the panicky way the latter did. this led to him switching between topics in his head rapidly, before randomly blurting out without fully realizing. 

“sonic is untrustworthy,” he mumbled, putting his arms over his eyes. michael found this insanely funny for some reason, bursting into giggles and holding his sides, leading jeremy to join in, too, wheezing when he felt a painful twinge in his chest. 

“you okay, dude?” michael inquired, looking over at him with his signature _i’m worried about you_ face. “chest hurts,” jeremy grunted in response, putting his hands over the spots rich had nicked his sides. 

this led to michael scooting in close and unceremoniously putting his hand up under his--michael’s? nah, it was totally his now-- hoodie, poking the very bottom of his ribs, jeremy’s face turning bright red at the sudden motion.

okay, jeremy, keep your fucking cool. 

“what are you doing, dude?” he asked nervously, putting his hands on michael’s wrists. “trust me, jers, i’m just gonna check your ribs. tell me when it hurts,” he mumbled in response, proceeding to poke at jeremy’s ribs a little clumsily until jeremy sucked in a breath at a certain spot where a bruise was likely forming. 

michael hummed sympathetically, patting the spot in apology. “go easy on binders for the next couple days. sports bras, okay?” he instructed, waiting until he got a nod out of jeremy so he could drop the subject. 

“i could’ve done that just fine,” jeremy mumbled as michael moved his hands out from under his hoodie, his mind sticking on the fact that michael’s hands were lingering on his waist. he didn’t want to think about that, especially not when they were so close together. were they getting closer?

michael was leaning in— holy fuck. michael was leaning in. stay calm stay calm stay _calm_ , be cool, jeremy told himself, taking all his willpower not to lean up and grab his face and kiss him right there. 

their lips were inches apart. he could feel michael’s breath against his face. it smelled kind of gross, but michael’s usual smell— like the laundry detergent in his hoodie— made up for it. jeremy didn’t dare close his eyes, just in case he was dreaming.

and then the garage door went up. 

michael jolted away from jeremy like he’d been burned, finding his weed stuff and quickly and neatly putting it away, leaving jeremy dazed and confused as to what had just happened. 

was it the high, or was michael going to kiss him? 

it was probably just the high, he told himself as they went back to video games and did their best not to look high when michael’s moms came to check on him. 

it was just the high, he told himself as he walked home from michael’s house at the end of the day. 

it was just the high, he told himself as he scrubbed the weed smell off of him in the shower and had dinner with his dad. 

it was just the high, he told himself over and over the rest of the night. 

but somehow he was still hopeful.


End file.
